


When the Snows fall and the White Winds blow

by byronicmusings



Series: The Sum of Our Memories [2]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Assassin's Creed III, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Isolation, Loneliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-09 20:13:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19483168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/byronicmusings/pseuds/byronicmusings
Summary: “When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.”Connor walks alone.





	When the Snows fall and the White Winds blow

It is a cold winter night - the street is dark and deserted. A thin layer of snow blankets the road, the pale white a stark contrast against the shadow of unilluminated buildings towering along both sides. Wisps of clouds hang overhead, and the faint moonlight that streams through casts an eerie glow on the lifeless road before him.

Connor trudges along the street alone, the crunching of snow beneath his boots echoing louder than he would have liked. He would normally avoid being out in the open like this, would have preferred to stay in the safety of shadows, meander through the maze of thin alleyways hidden among buildings. But not today. He is tired - physically and mentally. _Let them come,_ he thinks wearily. He will fight if he has to.

His ears vaguely pick up the creaking of a wooden door and instantly a cacophony of sounds fill his ears - the wordless bustle of the inn’s evening crowd, the clinking of cutlery, a faint violin melody in the background. Connor suppresses a wince, the noise jarring on his ears, the previous silence of the empty street making the sounds seem even more deafening. A second later the noise stops just as abruptly, now contained behind the closed door, and he is once more thrown back into the quiet street. 

He sighs, feeling a sudden pang of loneliness, and the ache for human company leaves a heavy weight in his chest. He brushes it aside, like he always does. There is no one he can turn to here.

So Connor walks on, alone on the empty path, and in the distance a lone dog howls, a sad, mournful cry.


End file.
